Beneath the Southern Lights
by Ibex's Lyre
Summary: Beneath the southern lights, Hermione and Snape find the truth in the fate of Atlantis and Antarctica.
1. The Ice Dragon's Eyes

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Beneath the Southern Lights

by Ibex's Lyre

This is in response to Lady Granger's Icy Challenge.

Disclaimer: Is applicable to every chapter, although I reserve the right to include additions to the disclaimer in following chapters as I see fit. I do not own any characters you recognize (i.e. Harry Potter and gang)--they of course belong to J.K. Rowling. I am making no money off of this, so even if anybody wanted to sue me, they wouldn't get enough to make it worth their time and effort. Seriously, I'm one poor Ibex. However, if you would like to make a donation to the Save the Ibex Foundation... 

I promise I promise for those who care that I'll get the first chapter of _The Lady, or the Snow Leopard _up soon--I'm still working through exams this week.

Oh, and Lady Granger? I *tried* to let it snow, let it snow, let it snow, but it simply doesn't snow in Antarctica!

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Chapter One: The Ice Dragon's Eyes

Death is white. 

The morning summer air was crisp and cool as Hermione walked down the leaf-covered path that led from the Hogwarts Express into the main part of Hogsmeade. The tree-lined streets were filled with emerald greens and occasional maroons, and the clear sunny day promised to be one of the last pleasant ones before the wilting heat of midsummer hit. In short, everything was perfect. Walking past the shops lined up in crooked rows that magically re-arranged themselves seemingly whenever they felt like it, she smiled slightly as she passed by places she remembered from her Hogwarts days. It had been less than five years since then, and yet... it seemed like it could have been five thousand.

As she passed by one of the many bookstores, The Text & Stylus, she stopped. Perhaps it was the bookworm in her, but the store called and beckoned Hermione to enter and lose herself in the wealth of literature it contained. So, Hermione, who was never one to deny herself a good book or two, entered. She didn't stay too long since she had already picked up some items at Diagon Alley on her way over, and because somebody was waiting for her. Or should be, anyway.

With a frown, Hermione made her way out of The Text & Stylus and into Rosmerta's The Three Broomsticks. The note had been rather clear, carried on the leg of an eagle owl:

__

Granger,

We've never really gotten along, and I don't particularly plan on rectifying the lack of love between us. However, my line of work has brought a few items that call for your... extensive knowledge on archaic things. I will be at the Three Broomsticks, in order to keep a low profile. It goes without saying that you will need to keep your mouth shut about whatever you see until I decide that the items in question are not something that can be used in particularly nasty hands. Which means you can't run off telling Potter and Weasley. Any of the Weasleys. And just in case I've finally found something you actually don't know about, I've sent an owl the only other person besides you who might possibly have some idea about what I have.

Draco

Well, at least he hadn't called her mudblood or something to that extent.

Indeed, he was waiting for her when she arrived. Sitting in a dark corner, watching her intently with gray eyes, he was just as he had always been. Cold as a glacier in the depths of an ice age, aloof as a snake. Draco Malfoy. The old distaste for the man who had been the constant thorn in her side awoke with a new vigor as she wondered just what he could possibly need _her_ help with--after all, he was the expert on Dangerous and Mysterious Magical Objects, not she. Warily, Hermione sat down next to him, and waited.

"So kind of you to join me, Granger," Draco said, with only a hit of malice in his voice. His contempt was well hidden, but Hermione could see it. She would always be just a second class witch to him, no matter what she did. Therefore, rather than worry herself to death about it, she merely shrugged this fact off. After all, one mere mortal could not change the world--no matter what Harry and Ron liked to believe. 

"You asked, _Draco_," she responded more than just a little icily. "I do not make it a habit to deny requests for help."

A stiff nod--was that grudging respect, or an affirmation to his own thoughts?--was all that she got. When Rosmerta came around, she ordered a glass of Naiad's Sparklin' Lemone Aide, and waited for Draco to show her what he needed to know. He really had grown more suspicious than she remembered. In fact... Hermione had to stifle a small grin, here... He almost reminded her of Mad Eye Moody. Like Auror, like bouncing ferret, she guessed. Although, as to how far she really trusted Draco was a completely different story. While she liked to assume that she kept an open mind, part of Hermione wasn't completely sure that Draco hadn't followed in his father's footsteps, after all. 

Sudden movement brought Hermione back to reality--it appeared that Draco was now ready to show her what he had brought. He pulled a black bag from some deep inner pocket of his robes, and placed in on the table neither gently nor particularly carelessly. When Hermione reached out to open the bag, he pierced her with his steel eyes. "Do you really think it's wise to open something that you have no idea anything about, Granger? We're not at Hogwarts anymore--you can't go running back to Madam Pomfrey if you're accidentally turned into a cat--or worse."

"I am an adult witch now, Draco, and unless you have forgotten, I am completely capable of taking care of myself. I assume you've removed all the hexes you put on the bag?" Hermione opened the bag and reverently pulled out the various objects within. There were four in total, looking to be of different ages and different origins. One was large and shaped like an acorn. It was flat as a mirror, but clear as frosted glass. The edge was razor sharp and Hermione was extra careful with it lest she get some blood activated hex--the dark ancient wizards and witches were just as ingenious as modern ones. If, indeed, this was a dark object as Draco had obviously assumed it was. There was writing along the edge, but Hermione put the object down in order to look at the others. 

The second was a small, glass-blown figurine looking almost like a crossbreed between a Chinese Fireball and the ancient pictures of the assumed extinct South American feathered dragons. It was clear, with gold and sapphire highlights on the figurine--pretty, but she was not exactly sure why Draco was convinced that it was dark. In fact, if she hadn't known any better, she would have said that the crystal figurine was modern, and not as ancient as she was positive it really was.

The third object was a broken stone pendant, looking of Norse origins, and looked like it was simply a type of beozar or something of a similar nature designed to work in tune to the seasons and ward off curses or hexes. It probably wouldn't be very useful in today's world, she mused, because of the more advanced, and subtly different magic used. Modern magic wasn't based off the seasons anymore. On the other hand, Hermione had been surprised before--she was currently working as a research archaeologist and librarian for the University of Britannica (really, she had classified herself as Professional Student, and this was just one more great opportunity in her quest to learn everything that she possibly could learn before she died) and had seen more than a few "archaic" pieces of magic that had had quite interesting and potent powers to them--ancient magic or not.

The fourth was pock-marked, weathered sun stone that appeared to have lost all of its magic--if it had ever contained any to begin with.

"Well, Granger?" came Draco's impatient voice. "Can you identify them, or was I right in getting a second opinion?"

Hermione frowned. "Some of them look familiar, yes," she muttered, wondering just who else could possibly have as extensive and eclectic knowledge as she, the infamous Gryffindor bookworm? No one readily came to mind. "This for example," and Hermione picked up her lecturing voice as she re-examined the crystal dragon. "I have seen before..." But where? It would have had to have been some old text, because the answers did not spring readily to mind. She pulled out her wand from her robes and began to gently probe for spells. "It's almost like... a tangled version of a portkey... But where would it go to?"

"Why is _she_ here?" came a silky voice right behind her that made her jump up and drop the crystalline figure. It shattered on the table with the quiet tinkling of glass, and Draco looked as though he was about to utter an Unforgivable. Before anyone could make a comment, though, the shattered pieces of the tiny dragon came back together to form one complete figurine again--as if nothing had ever happened. Hermione jerked around to glare at the voice that had caused her to almost ruin a priceless artifact. Snape was smirking nastily down at her, contempt showing through his eyes. "Graceful as ever, I see, Miss Granger." Then, to Draco, he scowled. "I do not remember your letter saying that she would be here, Mister Malfoy. No, no, don't explain anything. I don't want to hear it. Give me the crystal, Granger--and try not to drop it this time."

Chastised, Hermione handed him the dragon without saying a word. Severus Snape looked at the figurine for several minutes before giving his opinion. " Arctic Firetongue. Extinct." Mockingly, he lifted an eyebrow at Hermione. "I would have thought that even you would have been able to manage that. You are the _expert_, after all." And he placed the figurine back on the table and began to look at the other items.

__

I will not let him get to me, Hermione bristled. "I suspected, yes, but I like to compile more evidence before jumping to conclusions. Besides, Arctic Firetongue is a misnomer. They are believed to have lived in the Southern Latitudes... In fact--" and Hermione suddenly remembered just why the writing etched into the mirror looked so familiar. "Professor? May I see that, please?" Snape made a disinterested noise and stood still. Ignoring him, Hermione summoned a quill and a piece of paper, and began to scrabble apparently nonsensical things upon it. The pieces began to fit together--it had been on an old, incomplete papyrus book that some Egyptian priest had compiled even before Plato had been born that she had seen writing similar to what was on the mirror. Of Atl Antis, Water-Copper, or the City of Water and Copper, City of Coppery Water. Atlantis. And the mirror was not a mirror at all, but-- "The heart scale of an Arctic Firetongue," she breathed. "Draco, do you realize what you have here?"

"If I had, Granger," he snarled impatiently, "I wouldn't have come to you two for help, now would I have?"

"Look here at what it says: " she pointed excitedly at a set of characters at the top of the mirror, remembering to keep her voice low, "'Yé'tlan Atla Antis.' To Atlantis. But this here, this looks like it was added long after the original writing was--and it's not even the same language! _Yei me Llorenckh e Shai Oecce Nemainth Lorceatle e s'seruken Kai. Juren vathoisch sahi Tiosekkaninein. Nanni yei meu sahi a'yen ti yeinaileth... _Hmm..." She did a quick translation spell, and the words on her piece of parchment magically rearranged themselves into English.

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I am the Rock and the Ice, the Frozen Sea and the ethereal Sky. The One you have Forsaken. But I shall have what was once mine...

"A curse, Miss Granger," Snape said, looking quite bored. "There is a reason that there were two Atlantises, and that both disappeared."

"There were two, Professor?" Draco finally chimed in--and determined to snub Hermione now that Snape was here.

"Of course," spat Snape, who knew exactly now that Draco had been trying to play his childish tricks on Hermione--and while he was somewhat amused, he did not take kindly to being used in such a way, by anyone. Least of all someone who had ties so close to Voldemort. "And next time, Mister Malfoy, invite one or the other to help you out, but not both." He looked like he was getting ready to leave, which was just fine with Hermione who was still seething after Draco's comment.

Hermione took a deep breath to calm the raging anger that threatened to take control. "First there was an Atlantis in South America, founded by wizards and witches. It was an open community tolerant of magical and muggle folk alike. People from all over the world came to trade there, and some scholars believed that it was the first world wide hub of commerce. When asked, they always said that they were being smiled down upon by the Cobalt Ice Lantern, and that she allowed them to create and maintain such a vast empire. There was only one place they could not go to, the home of Cobalt Ice Lantern--for that was considered to be her last refuge from the world. It is said that Cobalt Ice Lantern did not show up for many centuries, and so some of the witches and wizards went to her home to find her. They did not come back, but instead built the second Atlantis, which was to be a purely magical community. None of the texts are clear on what exactly they did, but somehow they made the seas rise, and allowed even greater access to the original Atlantis. Both places prospered for almost a thousand years and then-- Something happened, and both places were destroyed. Completely. What you have, Draco, are the remnants of two great civilizations who knew no boundaries and were thus destroyed."

With a sigh, she looked down at the heart scale and the dragon figurine. "But neither portkey will work--they're missing some important component to make themselves whole."

"Pity, I am sure," said Snape. "Now, since this has been a complete waste of my time, I shall leave. I trust that the rest of my summer will be undisturbed?" Draco nodded, looking more than just a little unhappy. Some people are not morning persons. Snape was not a summer person. Draco nodded, and began to place the three other items on top of the heart scale to make it easier to place everything in his bag without having to worry about something getting broken. He had done this a couple of times before without any adverse affects--but this time was different. Ever since the crystalline dragon had shattered and reformed itself, its eyes had glowed an odd sapphire, filled with half activated ancient magic. When it was placed upon the scale, it seemed to melt into it, and the words, one by one, began to glow. _Yei me Llorenckh e Shai Oecce Nemainth Lorceatle e s'seruken Kai. Juren vathoisch sahi Tiosekkaninein. Nanni yei meu sahi a'yen ti yeinaileth... The One you have Forsaken. But I shall have what was once mine..._

And then, the three people closest to the activated portkey disappeared from the Three Broomsticks.

***

White.

The first sensation Hermione had was of a cold that ran so deep it froze all of her marrow. Then came the darkness of the deep Antarctic winter. "What..." she whispered, coughing as the suddenly cold air threatened to chap her insides. 

"I thought you said the portkeys wouldn't work, Miss Granger," came Snape's silky, displeased voice met hear ears, and she felt somebody's strong, large hands supporting her chest and back, keeping her from being completely bent over double.

"Thanks," she managed as she caught her breath, and tried to stand up. The strong hands stayed firmly in place against her back, however. "You may let go of me now," she muttered sarcastically. "And besides, I believe you were also sent for by Draco for your knowledge?"

"Uh... Professor?" came Draco's voice, as close to panicked as Hermione had ever heard it. "My wand is not--"

"Keep quiet, you silly boy, and give me that dragon scale," he snapped, and Hermione realized suddenly that neither he nor Draco were behind her. In fact, Draco was a few feet in front of her, looking terrified, and Snape was-- "Miss Granger, kindly continue to breathe slowly, and _don't make a movement_." Hermione didn't, but her eyes were focused directly on Snape, and he could see the realization dawning, and the horror. "Vathoisch!" he suddenly growled. "Llorenckh e shai oecce!"

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(A/N: You! The rock and [the] ice!")

"Yei me Yicikeiarkwe, ti e xa'jawel!" came a great hiss from above, and Hermione fought every instinct to look up._ "Nanni... vathoischi yiwe avrath tasceq yeinail chidrensi meu me'ar kenkeiren set yen ckhalen hibehi lehnoirsi kanva. Yei nah sahi brekkein a'yen jahken tragkur Do'hedinsi faha'r Ser'linjem!"_

(A/N: I am Yicikeiarkwe, once and forever! But... you who trespass upon my lands shall be destroyed as was agreed so many years before. I have not forgotten what was etched upon the Pillars of Eternity!)

She felt the hands tighten, and seemingly multiple daggers poking through the fabric of her clothing and into her skin. Snape stepped forward, flashing the scale at the dragon, who's head followed its every movement. She glared down at him even as he spoke. "Jinj'x?" he sneered. "Renye ame vathnailesi, Yicikeiarkwe. Lir qyr'behid defaha'r vathoischi. Memnek gei'kit chebidah Shai Oecce Sercoalte ta'un dosith ji'a bisahen qyr'behidsi a'ru?"

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(A/N: Really? This is yours, Yicikeirkwe. A gift from you. Since when did [the] mighty Ice Dragon kill those she gave gifts to?)

A growl of anger and Hermione was dropped on the powdery snow packed hard with ice. Only then did she see for the first time the giant creature before her that resembled almost exactly the tiny dragon figurine. Only this one was animate and angry.

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"Renye yei yen Tiosekkaninein!"

(A/N: Since I was forsaken!)

With that, the creature lunged at Snape, who dodged out of the way. Draco, who had been standing next to him, was not so fortunate. When the powdered snow and ice settled, he was simply no longer there. A great, dark gaze appeared on her face as she contemplated the two before her, and finally focused on Hermione.

Land of haunting snow, continent of fiery ice, of unforgiving pasts and never-ending night; place where Hell has already begun to freeze over in the crystalline beauty of the blazing ionosphere as it lit up the world in magical beauty-- The harsh wind sucked heat from her body even as Yicikeiarkwe's blue, lantern-like eyes gazed down in cold, unblinking hatred at Hermione and froze her to the very core of her existence. Centuries of hatred shown through; calm, detached. Vengeance as arctic as the landscape around the great ice dragon shown through as she contemplated the witch before her, paralyzing Hermione with her gaze.

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I am the rock and the ice, the great creature seemed to say, as she took a serpentine step towards Hermione.

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The frozen sea and the ethereal sky.

The one you have forsaken.

But I shall have what was once mine... And the dragon sneered a harsh, fanged smile down at her and struck like a coiled serpent, cobalt orbs of cruel intelligence shining brightly for the first time in thousands of years.

As a cruel twist of fate, all Hermione could not remember any of the hundreds of hexes, thousands of spells she had learned over the years--no, the only thing she could remember was the irony of life, the events that had led up to where she was now.

And that death is blue as the moonless midnight, not black.

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For anyone interested in trying to figure out the translations, know this: there are no articles like 'the'. Yicikeiarkwe "says" 'the' by the way she pronounces things... Unfortunately, since I'm too lazy to do a pronunciation key, just... use your imagination. Also, she combines the words "what was" into one word: a'yen. Past tense--and I mean, the 'ed' ending is 'en' and plurality is 'si'. Negatives come first before the verb because it looks cool. Other than that, translations should be pretty direct and English syntax similar because Ibex did not want to spend forever on this--no, that's what she's going to do for the Language challenge. Perhaps she'll call that new language 'Ibexian.' (Just kidding--I'm more creative than that.)

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Yei me Llorenckh e Shai Oecce Nemainth Lorceatle e s'seruken Kai. Juren vathoisch sahi Tiosekkaninein. Nanni yei meu sahi a'yen ti yeinaileth...

I am the Rock and the Ice, the Frozen Sea and the ethereal Sky. The One you have Forsaken. But I shall have what was once mine... 

"Yei me Yicikeiarkwe, ti e xa'jawel!"

I am Yicikeiarkwe, once and forever!

"Nanni... vathoischi yiwe avrath tasceq yeinail chidrensi meu me'ar kenkeiren set yen ckhalen hibehi lehnoirsi kanva. Yei nah sahi brekkein a'yen jahken tragkur Do'hedinsi faha'r Ser'linjem!"

But... you who trespass upon my lands shall be destroyed as was agreed so many years before. I have not forgotten what was etched upon the Pillars of Eternity!"

"Jinj'x?"

Really?

"Renye ame vathnailesi, Yicikeiarkwe. Lir qyr'behid defaha'r vathoischi. Memnek gei'kit chebidah Shai Oecce Sercoalte ta'un dosith ji'a bisahen qyr'behidsi a'ru?"

This is yours, Yicikeiarkwe. A gift from you. Since when did the mighty Ice Dragon kill those she gave gifts to?

"Renye yei yen Tiosekkaninein!"

Since I was forsaken!

Ah, goodness--does anybody have any idea how much CRAP I had to wade through on the internet to find the information I wanted? One of the most plausible theories on Atlantis so far is that it did exist... and you'll never, ever guess where: South America. *grin* Yes, yes, Plato says that Atlantis was beyond the Pillars of Hercules, but I believe there were actually two locations called the Pillars of Hercules... A couple thousand years ago, the lowland portions of South America (and there is geological evidence for this, if I am not mistaken) were actually flooded by an inland sea. The actual Atlantis is supposed to be in the highlands of Bolivia, and they have several abandoned cities with what represent stone ports, reminiscent of Italy and Venice--of course, since the sea has sunk back, these stone docks are odd structures and seemingly out of place. Plato said that Atlantis was surrounded in concentric rings, or something like that, with eight or ten kingdoms, and if you follow the ancient coastline, you find eight abandoned Incan cities... Well, anyway, you get the point. There is a Discover article on the internet along these lines: http://www.discover.com/jan_01/featatlantis.html if anybody is interested. Or, I guess, even this site: http://library.thinkquest.org/25245/atlantology/samerica.html?tqskip1=1&tqtime=0917 .Anyway, the native Tiahuanaco have always claimed to have been great sea farers once, and the remnants of a vast kingdom... I guess, like anything else, you have to make your own decisions. For years, nobody believed that Troy really existed until its ruins were found--on top of seven or eight other ruins.

Anyway, once I heard a ridiculous hypothesis that Antarctica was the Lost Continent of Atlantis... so I decided that yes... it _was..._ for the Wizarding Atlantis, anyway. =) 

If I had one thing to choose so far and say that it is my favorite part of the story, what I have deemed my cleverest idea, it would have to be Yicikeiarkwe (Yeay-ice-kaay-are-quay, where the 'r' is a clipped trill), the Ice Dragon, and the mythology I created and wove around her. 

And if anybody was wondering, my largest inspiration for fan fiction (besides Harry Potter, of course) so far has been Tad Williams' _The_ _Dragonbone Chair_ (Memory, Sorrow, Thorn Trilogy). Yicikeiarkwe was born in memory/honor of Igjarjuk.

As for the language... I studied Nahuatl once, but that was a long time ago, and not in the same region as the Incan empire. Really, I did not feel like learning Incan because this Ibex is lazy and had other work to do, so I simply created an Atlantean language. If it looks like it is based of Nahuatl... *inhales slowly, looking chagrinned* Incan and Aztec experts, don't get offended. I know the difference, but I had chemistry and calculus exams to think of, too! :) And no, Yicikeiarkwe's language is not the same as either Atlanteans'.


	2. Where the Pillars of Eternity Lay Fallen

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Beneath the Southern Lights

by Ibex's Lyre

Ha ha ha, I want everybody to know that my hard drives have been formatted 8 times in the past 2 weeks because of various errors--and during that time, I had no computer at all. In the few periods where I actually did have a computer, I had 3 major exams to study for, as well as homework…. College is a full time job…. Ah, but now I'm back with duel boot systems, so life is good again! 

Yes, I've finally decided that I must apologize for the quality of the first chapter of _The Lady, or the Snow Leopard._ I'm really embarrassed--to the point where I'll probably revise it as I post the second chapter. Nothing major will change--except sentences that don't quite flow, random words in the middle of otherwise coherent paragraphs...

And for those keeping dictionaries, I have a few new random grammar rules... 'er' as in younger is denoted by the 'el' ending. The 'ing' ending is a 'ii'. 

On a final note, I think you wonderful people are going to have to start waiting until the weekends for updates (yeah, I know, like you didn't anyway) because it's really the only times I have any time left over to write--and even then, RL seems to enjoy monopolizing my time. You should expect both stories by Saturday or Sunday, and with my luck, rather late at night. Obviously, there are going to be times when I cannot make this deadline, but I shall strive to keep them at a minimum, and to keep it from interfering with the quality of the text.

**Chapter Two: Where the Pillars of Eternity Lay Fallen**

_Ti, gei keir yen mahilel  
Gei Do'hedinsi faha'r Ser'linjern votumnen reukeu, quanshii a'ru orejemsi faha'r s'serusahym e chemii f'ejaxsi yirileths'si  
E Xa'jawel nahewikarsi e Xa'jawel murilequetsi yeon zolen uhorn nemainth cy'gen e nemainthel cy'gen   
Mehansi nahbrekkemen yei'jx._

Nashte, mellorensi verqwe sebachien  
Sabehein ve'nexasi a'ru a'yen tifyre e nabrek faha'r yei'jx.  
Serhai oeccebe tsujin'x yen draken kelo bajkae shakkuren jshayrsi faha'r Senhariebe  
E behi meckh ame lere'x ame nabrek faha'r yeinail nabreksi--

Silvyrminen.

Once, when the world was younger  
When the Pillars of Eternity stood upright, gazing to the ribbons of light and reaching towards the stars  
And the Forever days and Forever nights were balanced between the cold season and colder season  
Humans remembered me.

Now, the stones lie broken  
Fallen testaments to what was once sacred and the memory of me.  
The great icicle forest was melted by the jealous molten fires of Senhariebe  
And all that is left is the memory of my memories--

Shattered.

--Tears of Yicikeiarkwe

****

Hermione was thrown to the ground in a cloud of powdered snow and frozen ice that stung her exposed skin like a thousand burning spiders that bit and ripped with their needle like mandibles into her numbed flesh. Above her streaked a brilliant flash of fire as Yicikeiarkwe lived up to her name as the Arctic Firetongue. Where Hermione had stood was a rapidly freezing lake of ice. Next to her, Snape harshly yanked her to her feet and shoved her in the direction of a glassy mass of glacier rock before he turned to face the dragon. "Have your scale, you contemptuous feathered wurm!" He threw the heart scale at the charging dragon, and aimed an earth-fallen meteorite at it. They fractured into ten thousand shards that flew everywhere and cut through her great hide, causing the creature to hiss in pain and spit another great ball of frozen fire--melting and deforming the rocks like her nemesis Senhariebe, Lord of the Mountains of Molten Blood. 

Dodging the flying chunks of flaming, liquid rock, Snape sprinted towards where he had sent Hermione desperately hoping that Yicikeiarkwe was distracted by the pain and the broken heart scale. She hadn't been. The enraged dragon stretched her long wings and came after the two, torturing the landscape with her great jets of fire. One stray flame hit the glacial rock, causing a cascade of deadly ice to rain down upon Snape right before he found the sanctity of its great, looming hulk. The darkness of the Antarctic night came upon him, calling him away from the world of mortal men.

***

__

A palace of glass... Snape thought in blurry, incoherent sentences. The walls were clear and solid but shaped in such a way that it looked like somebody had poured liquid glass and then allowed it to solidify into place. _Who would build a palace out of glass? _And then a figure, with auburn hair frizzed and electrically charged by the dry cold, and slightly blue lips walked over to him. Suddenly, all pieces of his thought puzzle snapped together, and Snape knew exactly where he was. "Miss Granger," he said, more harshly than was needed. She recoiled slightly, and then stepped forward again.

"You're injured." was all she said before she knelt down and attempted to look at his wounds. Even injured, he was quicker than she, and before Hermione could even so much as reach her hands underneath his shirt to feel the extent of any injuries, Snape was on his feet and several meters away. ok

"I can take care of myself, Miss Granger," he hissed ever so softly. "I am, indeed, a Potions Master."

Hermione stared at him for several long minutes, examining him and his pride. "It is in self-limitation that a master first shows himself," she whispered, earning a sharp but thoughtful scowl from Snape. He looked almost waxen, he was so pale. Black on black clothing contrasted sharply against the white of his skin, and it was quite obvious that underneath those masochistically thick robes and starched shirts he wore even in mid summer, he was just as cold as she was. Only he refused to admit that he was mortal, too. Of course. He was Snape, after all, and Hermione wouldn't have expected anything else from him. Finally, she looked down at the useless wand she held in her hand. "While you were... erm..." Snape scowled at her as she tried to come up with a diplomatic way of saying 'unconscious' "otherwise occupied by the dragon, I took the liberty of bringing you into here. She melted and refroze the entranceway, so we can't go back the way we came from. And our magic seems to be... blocked in some way. I already tried to use my wand but--"

"I understand the current situation--probably better than you. If you would kindly refrain from making obvious statements?"

Hermione sighed, but kept quiet. Her fingers were so cold that she couldn't even feel them anymore. A thousand oceans could have fit in the distance between them, even though they were no more than a few meters away. It was almost ironic how much less lonely she thought she'd felt if she were alone and Snape was not here. And yet, he _was_ here and standing still meant that they were losing precious body heat. How many people had died that way? There had been muggles, determined to reach the South Pole, but before that it there must have been magical folk, too... "Well then, Professor, what do you suggest we do? Since you obviously know more than I do? I mean, it's not everybody who can hold a conversation in a nine thousand year old language with an extinct creature!"

He gave her a scathing look, ignoring the fact that she looked like she was on the verge of suffering from hypothermia, and began to walk out of the ice cave. He was determined not to spend any more time in her presence than he possibly had to. "_We_, Miss Granger? I do not recall a 'we' in this. I seem to recall myself attempting to return back to Hogwarts, and being transported here with an insolent young witch who apparently doesn't know much at all about her subject of choice for continued education, and a young wizard who is too stupid for his own profession! _I_ am most certainly not going to wait for my death of cold." 

Thus he left her, completely alone. 

She watched emotionlessly as his black-clothed figure disappeared into the dark southern night before slowly following his footsteps in the snow, wondering what he was searching for, or if he knew what she knew. She knew what she was looking for, knew what she could find even in this harsh world of blue and white and all the colors of the southern lights that danced and glowed above. But as harsh as Snape had been to her, Hermione couldn't allow herself to abandon him to the sure death that awaited both of them if they stayed too long out in the Antarctic open. So she followed even as she allowed him to get further and further ahead of her, even thought the wind was becoming more and more fierce, and even though she felt as thought she was being frozen to the marrow. For a moment, she was almost positive that she had seen him stumble, but then she realized that it was she who had fallen.

It doesn't snow in Antarctica. It can't--there is simply not enough precipitation in the air. It's too cold and too dry. And yet, the way the wind blew the powdered snow and ice, it could have been a blizzard. Hermione picked herself up and walked forward, not able to recall when she had last been able to feel her feet. A futile effort, really, for she walked forward only to stumble again. The ethereal lights in the sky reflected off of towering monuments that could have existed since the beginning of time itself for all Hermione knew. Some were still up right, others fallen over and broken like dying sentinels of a forgotten age. Several moments went by before Hermione realized that she had stumbled over the wiry, kneeling body of her former Professor. He seemed very annoyed--no, more than annoyed: irked! 

"Well, Miss Granger," he said icily and seemingly ironically unaffected by the cold, "since you apparently decided to follow, you might as well translate this."

Surprised, Hermione gave him a questioning look, which he ignored. "Y--you can--can't r-r-read this?" she shivered.

"If I _could_, Miss Granger, I would not have wasted precious time or energy asking you."

"B-but earlier y-you c-c-could speak to the d-dragon!" she protested, wondering if this was some new way to humiliate her.

"Minus ten points for your lack of observation," he said in a silky smooth voice, despite the fact that Hermione was no longer a Gryffindor. Not in the literal sense of the word, anyway. "This is a different language."

__

So now he asks for my help, she thought, rather annoyed. Still, she studied the broken piece of stone for several minutes in an attempt to decipher it. The freezing wind cut through her thin clothing and lacerate her body like knives and still she studied it intently. Cryptic symbols seemed to dance before her eyes, their meanings just beyond her reach when she realized slowly that she was dying. She simply couldn't concentrate as the looming darkness pressed forth against her. Somewhere far away, she heard a voice that sounded like hers whisper, "... S remember what lies sunken here. The hot springs of eternal youth are just beyond the Eternity Steles, lit by the Cobalt Lantern... I think this is a beacon stone, designed to guide lost travelers to their destination...." Hermione tried to stand up, but couldn't. As the world faded away from her even though she fought the darkness with all of her might, she missed the look of grudging respect that she had earned in the eyes of Snape, and the feel of his arms around her as he finally accepted the fact that if they both were going to survive, they needed to work together.

***

__

Hermione was looking up at the great pillars of stone and glass as they had been in their prime--tall, proud. In the age before Antarctica had been covered in ice, and in the age after. First there had been the ice, and then the forests, and came the ice again--but why was she seeing this? This was the age after the first true ice, the in-between age when the land spent half of the year green, and the other half white. In the distance, there was a lantern filled with cobalt blue flame that burned intensely and refracted through the atmosphere. No--that wasn't a lantern, that was a dragon egg! Hermione looked around and realized that there were more eggs--some glowing different shades of blue. Each was assigned to a tree of icicles, patterned in some fractal way that seemed to be filled with jewels as the Aurora Australis almost touched them. Where were the other dragons? The adults? 

There was a small rumbling, and Hermione felt the earth underneath her shifting. But this shouldn't be happening--Antarctica was not on any fault lines! Not any present ones, anyway. The earth groaned again, and suddenly a giant crack ripped through the icicle trees, hurting none but separating many. Out of the molten red gap that threatened to ooze lava, a gigantic, serpentine creature came and examined the trees before her. She snorted one great cloud of air so cold that it condensed the rest of the air around it, and grabbed one of the blue eggs, replacing it with one that glowed red. Then she returned back into the abyss, allowing it to heal over with fast cooling lava that rapidly transformed into obsidian in the icy air.

And so there were two eggs in the very center of the forest: one cobalt blue and one fiery red, each with their own tree and own origins, but sharing one common destiny.

***

Awareness came slowly to Hermione, and in waves. First she could hear the steady sound of air rushing softly past her ears. Then she became aware of a spicy smell of pine and chamomile and... healthy male, which was oddly enough the most comforting thing she had known up to now. The next wave of becoming awake brought the feeling of warmth and of being embraced by somebody who completely engulfed her against their body, and of a head resting in her hair. Asleep. When her eyes finally opened, Hermione saw that she was pressed up against Snape, tucked neatly under his chin and in his arms. She thought about struggling for a moment, and then realized that she had no idea what the unconscious response of a former Death Eater would be; so she slowly wormed her way out of his grasp, and gasped--the sudden cold was a shock to her body.

It was not the only uncomfortable thing.

Frowning at her body's basic needs, Hermione decided that she needed to find someplace to empty her bladder. And while the idea of dropping her trousers in such an icy place was not a fun one, neither was the idea of walking around much longer without relieving herself. She disappeared, in search of a suitable place, trying not to feel too guilty about desecrating such a place with the necessities of an organic body. When Hermione found her way back, Snape was awake, and looking relatively amused at her own discomfort. The knowing smirk followed her across the room even as she was sure he probably needed to take care of business just as much as she had.

Finally, she folded her arms across her chest and tried her best not to be intimidated by the man who had haunted her childhood for seven long years. "Where are we?" 

Snape glanced at a wall etched with half melted and solidified symbols that read: _Renye ame dehibeth faha'r Senhariebe. _"Apparently we're in Senhariebe's domain. My suggestion, Miss Granger, is to tread lightly." He stood up carefully and disappeared through a blackened door. "Coming?" came the echoed query, prompting Hermione to follow. 

His footsteps came from the darkness beyond her, but try as she might, she was quickly lost in the darkness even before she had truly begun to follow. "Sir?" she called. An echoing hiss responded, forcing a stop from her. Hermione felt completely helpless. Listening to the wind rushing through the echoing caverns around her, she did not hear the tall form that approach and grabbed her from behind--

A hand clamped over her mouth before she could scream and a pair of lips pressed softly against her ear. "It would be best," the silky voice whispered, "If you would be a little more quiet. You are not a dundering, graceless Hufflepuff, and waking up the sleeping creature that undoubtedly finished off the rest of this city would be most… unpleasant." Strong hands clasped her shoulders and steered her forward though the darkness into halls dimly lit with the lingering magic of thousands of years ago. Deeper they went, farther away from the harsh cold of the Antarctic surface, and from the promise of being found. Like a void of despair, the further Hermione descended into the depths of the cavernous hulk of a buried city, the more certain she knew that there would be no escape from this. Not now, not ever. The memories of sunlight and warmth, of the Hogwarts summer, or spending the entire day in her cozy University library were lost in the forever emptiness of the dead city. As if Snape knew exactly what she was thinking, his hand slid down her back in a graceful yet awkward gesture of comfort, and then slid from her back to his side. 

The lack of warmth made Hermione realize just how cold she was. Her hands and face burned as though they were on fire, and itched like a thousand fire ants were crawling across her skin. In an effort to keep the blood flowing through them, she began to rub her hands together and analyze the situation. "Where are we going?" she asked finally.

Silence stretched between them as he seemingly navigated the catacombic ruins and depths of the true wizard's Atlantis. "Would you prefer the ice and wind?" he asked rather sharply. 

The stinging words surprised her even though she felt she should have expected them. "No," she admitted, fears confirmed. It wasn't very likely at all they'd be able to get back to Hogwarts. Why wouldn't her wand work? Frustrated, she pulled it out of her wind tattered robe, and aimed it menacingly at a dimly lit rock. A weak hex flew out and knocked the rock a few feet in front over a precipice neither had seen. They both stopped where they stood, surprised. One more step, and neither of them would have survived.

"I guess we have to go around," Hermione muttered sheepishly. 

*********************************************************************************

Stay tuned for the next episode, The Hot Springs of Eternal Youth!

"It is in self-limitation that a master first shows himself."

-Goethe.

Ha ha ha, the wonderful thing about Antarctica is that it may not be situated on any fault lines, and it may not snow (although it is the coldest place on earth) it is situated on a couple of active hot spots, and contains a few nicely active volcanoes...

LoPotter: I hope you have a superb day, too! Thanks for putting up with FF.Net for half an hour just to review my story, and I hope you like the LoS sequel, too...

ChelleyBean: Thanks! That makes me feel very loved... I'm frustrated, though, because I didn't find the exact thesis I had read once, which was very well written and very plausible/worthy of consideration. Oh, well...

Bellemaine Chercoeur: Yes! My characters are In Character! (I had a mid chapter crisis where I wasn't sure I keeping them in character, so this makes me feel very validated at this point.) Ah, yes, I think that we shall be seeing more twists in the dragon's tail (excuse the pun, it's 1:30 in the morning) too...

Tablynvan: At this point in time, I haven't decided Draco's fate. To be quite honest, I really don't like Draco that much, but that doesn't mean he can't be used as an interesting plot device--especially given Lady Granger's challenge guidelines (the ones pertaining to Voldemort, if you want a hint).... *Evil grin*

Lady Granger: When you're done with that dictionary, can I steal it? *Grin* That way I can continue being a lazy Ibex... actually, _I _was planning to make a dictionary, simply to make it easier when I go back and do some more translating further along the story... Glad you're enjoying it! And... try not to salivate all over your keyboard... I learned the hard way that keyboards and saliva simply don't mix.... Nor hot chocolate, for that matter.... (Ask Autumnmist)

Aurinia: Thanks for that wonderful read (Oh, do I look like a geek now?)! That was incredibly fascinating and I loved the analytical approach taken--it really brightened up my evening (as I was stumbling through trying to relearn Schrodinger's Quantum Cat problem so I could finish the first chapter of the LoS sequel). There are so many theories out there--sometimes I almost wonder if there really were more than one 'Atlantises'--Humans are odd creatures in that the same innovations will spontaneously appear from place to place to place with seemingly no connections to one another. If there was one great civilization during that period of time--why not two? Or three? Until we get some serious research going, like your thesis said, --sonar mapping, respectable archaeological excavations--however, I don't think we'll know the answer any time soon. Although, I always get a good grin out of the strange 'Atlantis was really Antarctica' or 'Atlantis was really created by aliens' stories... (Hence why both of my Atlantises were founded by magical folk, and the second was located in Antarctica--aside from the fact that it fit Lady Granger's prompt...)

I am amused, though, because I said that the South America one was one of the most plausible theories I'd heard (unfortunately, I haven't been able to track down the very good thesis paper I saw on that theory, otherwise I would have included a link for that, too) but now it looks like I have two plausible theories! What's an Ibex to do? Become an archaeologist, maybe... ;) Actually, what would interest me is if somebody did a study on the probable oceanic currents that occurred during that time period and plotted the most likely places a ship would sail to if taken by the currents... Then we really *would* know--or at least, have an incredibly good idea... 

As to the languages--I must admit that I've never had any contact with Icelandic or Cyrillic/Scandinavian! When I created the language, I was basing it off of Yicikarekwe's name, which I had invented a few weeks prior (yes, this story's been sitting on the back burner for a while thanks mostly to my workload) and my attempt at figuring out how a dragon with such an exotic name would speak. I had thought at the time that it was very similar to what I remembered of my Japanese (which isn't much anymore) and was rather worried that it would come off looking too fake. From the reviews I've gotten on it, however, I'm going to guess that I achieved what I wanted, which was to create a realistic well-founded language. That makes me soooo happy!


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